


We owe it to them

by SecretlyThranduil



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Kidnap Dads, Maglor is sad and Maedhros is traumatised okay, Third Kinslaying (Tolkien), so much kidnap so little dads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:54:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25510081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretlyThranduil/pseuds/SecretlyThranduil
Summary: For tumblr prompt: “They’re not your kids, back the f*ck off.” + KidnapdadsFor Jaz-The-Bard
Comments: 12
Kudos: 63





	We owe it to them

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JazTheBard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazTheBard/gifts).



_No no nonono what have we done?_

Maglor could barely think straight.

They had done it again. And they could lie to themselves, say that it was Elwing’s fault for not sending them the Silmaril, Dior’s fault in Doriath for hiding it from them, but it was not. They just didn’t think, they were irrational _again_. Maglor knew they could not even blame it on that cursed Oath, not fully. They did not think when they swore it, and they hadn’t thought at Alqualonde. Yes, Doriath was not supposed to be a massacre, but they had not cared to think this time. They just did not care.

Not until the rage cleared and they could not ignore what they had done.

Maglor could not ignore what he had just done.

And now they had cornered Elwing in her tower, backed her against the open window, still holding the Silmaril. If only she’d given it up, this might have been averted. If she would just give it up now, they might let her live. Or Maedhros would at least kill her quickly, cleanly. Some level of mercy.

But she still won’t give it up, the _fool_. She had doomed Sirion by refusing to give it up, she had forced their hand.

 _No, that’s a lie_ , Maglor thought, _we can’t blame anyone but ourselves. We did this_. _Again_.

It was too late now though, there was nothing that could make her give up the Silmaril.

Unless…

Maedhros had the same idea, it seems. They both knew that there were children hiding in the closet behind them. When you grow up with as many younger siblings as they have – _had_ – no child can hide from you for long.

They must be Elwing’s. Oh, _twins_. Maglor tried his hardest not to think of Ambarussa – poor Amrod and Amras – whose bodies they will never be able to recover. They will need to flee before the High King inevitably arrives with reinforcements.

This was the worst thing they had done yet. Maedhros had his sword to their throats, and Maglor _prayed_ to Eru, if he even listened any more, that Maedhros was bluffing. That he would never actually hurt them, it was just a ruse to get the Silmaril. Oh Eru, they had taken children _hostage_. They couldn’t be more than six years old.

His brother was threatening Elwing, but Maglor could barely hear the words. Even holding his sword against them was destroying him. They had truly fallen so far as to threaten to kill her children if she did not give them the Silmaril.

 _Oh Eru,_ he thought, _please, PLEASE just give it up. We might not have a choice here_.

But Elwing seemed to stare straight through them, as if her children were not there at all.

“My sons are dead. We are all dead.”

And then she _jumped_.

_no no no NO!_

Maglor could not believe it.

She had jumped. She had left her children in the hands of murderers. She had claimed they were already dead, she knew that they would not hesitate to kill them. They did not want to, but they would.

They would… wouldn’t they?

 _No, I can’t. I can’t do it! I will not do it!_ Maglor thought, terrified.

Maedhros, on the other hand, he was still holding the sword. If anything, it had _tightened_ against their necks. For one horrible moment, all Maglor could see was little Amrod and Amras in their place. The guilt, oh, _the guilt_.

He was panicking now. They had already killed so many today, but _valar please no_ , not these children too!

“Maedhros, please, _put the sword down_. You know you don’t want to do this. We need to take them with us, they are our responsibility now.”

He risked taking a step towards them, which proved to be a mistake. If that sword pressed any deeper, it would break the skin. It could kill them. Maedhros would _kill_ them,

“They’re not your kids Maglor”, he snarled, “back the fuck off. They’re not Ambarussa, you can’t just replace one set of twins with another.”

Eventually the mask slipped, just a fraction, and Maedhros sighed. “It is kinder for them this way Maglor, we have already taken everything from them, they have nothing left. Let Námo take care of them, let them go to their mother in death.”

Maglor would not let that happen, not again. He would not lose a _third_ set of twins.

And he knew just how to convince his brother. He may be soft, _weak_ , as his father has often called him in the aftermath of Alqualonde, but he could be conniving. Manipulative.

“Maedhros, do you not remember what you did after Doriath? Do you not remember how long you looked for those boys, little Elured and Elurin? You have a chance to make up for that failure now.”

And it worked. They stared at each other for a long time, the terrified whimpers of the two young boys the only sound that filled the room.

And finally, _finally_ , his brother put the sword down, and let him take them. These two terrified boys, who clung to Maglor, sobbing into his shoulders

“Nothing will ever make it right Maglor.”

No, it wouldn’t.

But perhaps these two boys could become something better than them. Maybe they could be the change that this world needed.

 _But most likely_ , Maglor laughed to himself, _they’ll just be two more lives for us to destroy._

“We have to try though, Maedhros.

“We owe it to them.”


End file.
